The Lost Daughter (2021) and the Escape from Motherhood
Olivia Colman's domineering and old-class stage presence greatness is too strong that it is stark enough to entrench itself into the tone.
The Lost Daughter (2021) is Maggie Gyllenhaal’s directorial debut that stars impressive names such as Olivia Colman, Dakota Johnson, Jessie Buckley, Ed Harris, and the up-and-coming Paul Mescal. The film was produced on the majestic Greek island of Spetses, though in the film we are given the information that it is called Kyopeli. Along with the natural beauty of the sun and the beach, we are also captivated by the centralized personage and superb acting of Olivia Colman (Leda). Taking up the entirety of our attention throughout the film through her established presence, Leda’s what seems to be a casual vacation in Greece renders itself a psychological thriller and drama.
The psychological repercussions infused in the film are triggered earlier in the movie. As Leda observes a young mother (Nina) and her daughter (Elena), she feels extremely disturbed, hysteric, and uncomfortable. At the same time, we are confronted with flashbacks from Leda’s life with her daughters, which sets the film's tone, which is that the plot will be thickened later on. Half of the story is told by actual events and actions taking place in the present tense while the other half is to be interpreted by the occasional emergences of flashbacks of Leda’s life.
Throughout the lone sequences of Leda unambitiously wandering off the trails, sunbathing, or sleeping, it would be proper to question where Leda’s loneliness and estrangement stem from. Among all clusters of people, she sticks out like a sore thumb with her solitary understanding of vacation—which is explained gradually throughout the runtime of the film. This loneliness is an inexplicable method of coping with heavy burdens or responsibilities such as entering into the stage of life called motherhood. A young mom, Leda had practically a very limited amount of time for herself and, being a young person, this actively depressed and stressed her which ultimately led to her abandoning her children to relinquish her duties as a mother.
“Children are a crushing responsibility,” claims Leda in one interaction, and this proves to be the central theme of the film: the hardship, suffering, and sacrifices borne out of bearing a child and bringing them into the world. Leda’s point of view in abandoning her children can conventionally be observed as an outrageous and unacceptable behavior, but in my perspective, it is highly understandable and relatable because the impending doom of having kids is extremely overlooked by many future parents. Nonetheless, Leda continues her life with guilt and remorse in her heart—even though she remarks in an interaction that it feels amazing—constantly haunted by flashbacks which are not incoherent or unfounded, but based upon the similar and relevant experiences she went through. These flashbacks significantly proliferate when in close range of Nina and her daughter Elena. The reasoning behind this is the fact that Nina is going through highly similar experiences to what Leda has been through, and because of those experiences it is not difficult to see Leda empathize with Nina.
A great number of flashbacks that we are given are comprised of generally impulsive, negligent, and unconventional behaviors from a supposed mother. This can perhaps be explained by the entry into motherhood unseasoned or expected, due to the folly of the onset of adulthood which bore horrendous consequences for all members of the family. Leda’s academic career as well as her mental facilities were greatly suffering under the freight of motherhood, as she could resume her academic studies and relish conferences as well as resorting to an extramarital affair as an escape mechanism. A self-proclaimed “selfish” human being, it can be asserted that Leda’s ambitious academic goals and studies, as well as her need for peace and solace for solidarity, overweighed her affection toward her children which, in turn, resulted in her abandoning her children—but having to live with this guilt rest of her life.
To summarize it briefly, Gyllenhaal’s The Lost Daughter (2021) captures the struggles of being a young parent, resembling the circumstances of Calum from Aftersun (2022). Feeling suffocated and overburdened by the crushing responsibility and accountability of being a parent, Leda resorts to escaping her duty as a mother in order to pursue her life as she sees fit. This, however, contributes to the aforementioned psychological trademark of the movie that feeds upon the haunting and extremely discomforting flashbacks of Leda’s past with her daughters and her husband.